Memory’s  painted canvas—
stretched, wrapped,
stapled to a frame,
overpainted time and again.

Curiosity scratches
at the tender outer image,
applied yesterday,
or the week before,
(who can remember?)
finding colorful specks
layers deep,
a notching of nostalgia,
chiseled second guessing,
whittled flecks
of regretting
and fear of forgetting,
then looking for another brush,
another tube of paint—
Cadmium Yellow? Cerulean Blue?





2 thoughts on “Canvas


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